Wish Upon A Christmas Cake. Darcie Boleyn

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СКАЧАТЬ to be his wife, to know that he was as committed to her as she was to him. That was another reason why I needed to make myself scarce. I didn’t want to be the third wheel. The spare part. The gate-crasher to their romantic festive celebrations. Ann was adorable inside and out and Mark would be lucky to have her as his wife. I just hoped that his gain wouldn’t be my loss. I would hate to have to deal with not having Ann around. She was an integral part of my life, had supported me through so much, and our business was so young. I was sure that it still had a long way to go – especially if my plans for online domination got off the ground. But Mark was quite a traditional guy and he’d spoken in the past about believing that once women had children, they should be supported by their husbands. That had been an interesting discussion over a takeaway with me obstinately blazing the trail for career women. I couldn’t help but worry that he might want Ann to quit work, and I would lose my business partner because she’d move away to a quaint rural village where she’d end up wearing tweed ensembles and baking for the local school fetes. I shuddered.

      ‘Okay, Ann, I’m going.’ I gave her one last hug, then climbed into my cherry-red car. I was so proud of my new car, evidence of our business success. I’d always wanted a Beetle, ever since I was a kid when I’d watched Disney’s Herbie movies. There’s nothing like the thrill of accomplishing a childhood dream. It had been my only extravagance. I liked clothes and shoes but there wasn’t much call for Manolo Blahniks when you were on your feet all day baking and as for the clothes…well I just kept promising myself that I’d go on a shopping spree once I’d dropped a few pounds. Then I’d go back to that little boutique in central London and tell that twelve year old who worked there – okay well she looked about twelve but was probably more like eighteen – that I was in fact a curvaceous medium and not a large as she had suggested. Oh how I would enjoy that one! I might even stick out my tongue, you know, just for good measure.

      ‘Katie?’ Ann waved a hand in front of my face. ‘That’s it, come back to me. Now promise you’ll text when you get there and make sure you take lots of photographs. I’m desperate to see this manor house you’re staying at. And if you meet any celebs, I want autographs. And selfies! And souvenirs…you know…see if you can get them to give you some movie memorabilia or something.’ She prodded my shoulder with excitement then rubbed her hands together.

      I shook my head as I grinned at her. ‘I doubt that the celebs – who probably won’t even be there – actually carry movie memorabilia around with them, Ann. It’s not like Johnny Depp has a pirate sword and a long black wig in his back pocket is it?’

      ‘Johnny Depp?’ Ann squealed and waved her hands around her face. ‘Is…he…going…to…be there? Did you deliberately not tell me?’ She glared at me, her eyes wide as saucers.

      ‘If he was then I would have told you, I swear.’ I watched as she deflated like a week-old balloon. ‘I really don’t think that there’ll be any famous people there. It’s just my boring old family.’

      ‘I wouldn’t say that your folks are boring and Karl is kind of a celeb these days, isn’t he?’

      Ann was right. Karl was being offered all sorts of movie roles now and whilst he might not be up there with the big names yet, it wasn’t hard to imagine him getting there soon. Especially with his latest role as a British spy who helps to infiltrate a foreign plot to wipe Britain off the face of the earth, then wins the heart of a highly successful and gorgeous French artist. I was fairly certain that Karl would soon be earning big bucks and selecting the roles he wanted rather than the roles his agent insisted he accept just to climb the greasy acting pole. It was a slippery one and I just hoped that my big brother would manage to get to the top and stay there. My only concern was that he might not be as successful as he should be because he wasn’t fickle enough.

      ‘He is a celebrity now, I guess. No problem, I’ll get as many pics as I can. Miss you already.’

      I was about to start the engine when it dawned on me that I’d forgotten something. I chewed my lip, wondering what I hadn’t packed. Then I realized and a cold shiver ran down my spine. I flung open the car door and ran back into the shop with Ann hot on my heels. I skidded to a halt in front of the Christmas tree and my heart hammered as I spotted the tiny pink bear. I couldn’t believe that I’d nearly forgotten it. I unhooked the gold string from the branch and cradled the bear in my palm. Christmas wouldn’t be the same without it. The well-worn toy had always been important to me but this year it was even more so because it had been a gift from my Granny the Christmas I’d been pregnant. She’d told me to hang it on the tree that year because I’d found out at my second scan that I was expecting a girl. She’d been just as excited as I was. My throat ached as I pictured her grin when I’d confided in her that Sam and I were expecting. She’d been the first person I’d told after we found out.

      I was going to miss that little old lady deeply.

      So this year, having the bear with me was even more important as it would remind me of my baby and my Granny. I absolutely had to take it.

      Ann had been silent and still behind me, but she now placed a hand on my shoulder. ‘You okay?’

      I swallowed hard. ‘Yeah. Just…’

      ‘I know, Katie. It’s important that you take the bear with you.’

      ‘It’s silly, isn’t it?’ I squeaked.

      Ann rubbed my back. ‘Not at all. Whatever helps us to deal with the pain is never silly. Are you all right to drive?’

      I nodded. ‘Now I am.’

      She walked back to the car with me and watched as I tucked the bear in my handbag.

      ‘Drive carefully, Katie. Love you!’

      I blew her a kiss then watched her waving in the rear-view mirror before I pulled out into the traffic and set off.

      My sat nav claimed that the journey from West Hampstead to Penshurst should take about an hour and twenty minutes. The manor house we would be staying in belonged to a film director friend of Karl. The director, whose name Karl had dropped during a recent phone call but which I couldn’t recall, was apparently famous for making those teen slasher movies. I probably didn’t know who he was because I wasn’t fussed on said films, preferring a rom-com any day. I’ve always been a sucker for a happy ending and can’t stand to watch anything that involves limbs being sawn off or men in masks chasing ridiculously naïve characters around crumbling old houses. But the generous American director had kindly invited Karl to use his English residence over the holidays, so I wasn’t going to complain. Apparently, the listed building was rarely used by the owner himself, but had featured in a variety of movies from Jane Austen remakes to World War Two epics, to a recent box office hit about an English family who all went mad during the zombie apocalypse and ended up killing each other before the zombies even started hammering on the front door. The thought of the last one made me shudder. I just hoped that Christmas wouldn’t be too crazy for the Warhams and that none of us would be forced into the insanity of murder or munching on brains.

      Driving along, I peered at the sky. For weeks we’d had miserable grey drizzle that made the air heavy and damp and chilled me to the bone. Despite the bookies’ predictions, there had been no signs of snow, other than the sweet crisp frosting on our bestselling homemade Christmas cakes. Ann and I had made them using my Granny’s old recipe that she’d had from her own grandmother. Using Granny’s recipes – for puddings, cakes and mincemeat – had also made me feel closer to her, as if in baking the same things that she’d once done, I could conjure up her spirit like a medieval sorceress and feel her comforting presence in the Crumbtious kitchen. Inevitably, I’d cried a few times as I’d pored through the handwritten recipes that СКАЧАТЬ